There are three rooms I rarely see,
Though in my mind they ever be.
There are three people in those rooms,
Who give my spirit sanctuary.
When I can, I visit them,
When I can’t, I miss them.
Three people in three rooms.
The rooms are not elaborate,
No gilt bedecks the walls.
The staircase to them creaks a bit,
“Be careful, or you’ll fall.”
The people there are loving.
They claim me as their own.
Suffer all my failings,
Give my heart a home.
If it has been months or a year,
Since I was there before,
No awkwardness disturbs the air,
When I walk in the door.
Walls of solitude surround us,
And sometimes must be broken.
Here, they seem to vanish,
As if they’d never been.
I love them very dearly,
Would like to let them know,
The strength that has been given to me,
By Nana, Muz and Joe!
Mary Ann Loewenstein
1977
